


With a Mark Up and Down the Skin

by aykayem



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-23
Updated: 2011-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 21:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aykayem/pseuds/aykayem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco finds himself stalked by an unlikely creature of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With a Mark Up and Down the Skin

My heart pounded in my chest, racing. I could hear it in my ears amidst my shallow, panting breaths. My lungs burned, my legs burned, and everything hurt. It was all nothing compared to the pain I’d feel if I happened to slow for even a moment, though; catching my breath would mean the end of me. I could barely think. Nothing but ‘keep running, you git’ tore through my brain. I struggled to focus on something else. What I had for breakfast, what sort of bollocks I’d been assigned in class as NEWT level homework. How I got myself in this situation.

Wasn’t that a thought. How I came to be in this dreadful position, my last ditch attempts at survival pounding blue through my veins. It was all that bleeding Potter’s fault. He was the one who suggested a pleasant Halloween surprise. Who egged me on. Who sad I was too cowardly to show. Some surprise. I’d gone out - alone; no one else was stupid enough to join me - after dark. The appointed time, the appointed place, nothing but my robes and scarf to keep me warm against the October chill. I should’ve expected something like this, I suppose. Potter’s sense of humour had always left something to be desired. A crack, a rustle, something behind me. Faster than I could turn to look, a growl. Something unfriendly, not that it came as much surprise. What else was I to do but run?

I told myself the tears running down my pale face were from the wind and not the fear-induced panic I’d run myself into, not the adrenaline pumping me faster through the trees. People call me a coward to my face, too skinny behind my back, and never think the two might be connected. Struggling for air, I forced my feet to keep going. One foot in front of the other. Pay no heed to the growling breaths heating the back of your throat. Just keep running. A foolproof strategy when you had no idea what was chasing you in the first place.

These sorts of things always came back to bite me in the arse, though. Draco Malfoy is destined to never get a break. It ran in the family. A poorly placed root foiled my struggle; I was almost glad when my hands hit the rough ground, my body following shortly after. I would either die at the hands - or claws, for that matter - of my pursuer, or I would die trying to get away. Breath was eluding me as I rolled on my back, gaping up with gray eyes, wide with terror. Through the black, I could barely make out the growling form of my aggressor. Coarse black fur as far as I could see, disappearing back into the atmosphere, stark green eyes that were so vibrant they nearly glowed. By the light of the attacker, I sat trembling, unable to do much more than whimper to myself a plea for survival. Too much to ask, I supposed.

A sharp claw drew out of the darkness, glinting as it nudged me down to the ground. My breath caught in my throat. Dirt crushed under my fingers, embedding beneath normally pristine nails. I could feel the world’s breath still at my throat, hot and feral, just as I could feel my own fear stinking up the air. Trust Potter to have warned his friends away from all this. Almost as if he knew what was going to greet me here.

“…Potter?”

I swear I could’ve seen a smirk as fangs bared in the darkness, the full moon peeking through the tops of the trees to glint off them. The sound of my terrified shrieks filled the air was the last thing I heard as the world drew black.


End file.
